Salvatore
by face-catcher
Summary: Feliciano learned, from a young age, "Don't trust anyone, Feli. No one but me." and his brother is always right but, when the unthinkable comes to life and Feliciano has to protect what he loves... Feliciano wonders if... maybe... perhaps... Lovino was wrong.
1. Chapter 1

**In case you didn't know:  
Feliciano=N. Italy/ Veneciano  
Lovino= S. Italy/ Romano  
Hetalia= Not Mine**

* * *

Resting himself on the balls of his feet, Feliciano tensely for the return of his brother...

'_Fratello..._' forcing back the desire to cry, Feliciano tried to strain his hearing for his brother, wondering what had gotten into him...

'_Ever since he came back from the market..._' did something happen at the market...? Was Lovino being followed...? Why could the elder never talk to the younger?

'_Go for a walk my tush..._' but Feliciano still waited quietly for his brother in the under growth...

And waited...

And waited...

"Feli?" oh _dio_...

"_Si?_" terrified, unsure, and left in the dark, Feliciano fought down the icky feelings and scanned his big brother's face. "_Fratello?_" he whimpered, his big brother is not supposed to be so white, to have such a faraway look in his eye... grabbing at his brother's shirt and searching his brother's face frantically Feliciano chanced a question. "_Fratello, _what happened?

Feliciano jumped when a warm, soft, calloused hand came up to cradle his cheek in its palm, and Feliciano grabbed at it, so afraid as his brother struggled to find the right words for Feliciano.

"Feliciano, listen to me." that voice didn't match the look in his eyes, it was too calm, to controlled, he was hiding again.

"I need you to be strong and brave, I need you to be a big boy for me." Lovino paused and Feliciano felt his stomach roll over itself "Do you think you can do that?" Why was his brother pleading with him? Feliciano tried so hard to prove he wasn't a child anymore but...

But Feliciano didn't want to be a big boy anymore...

How many times had Lovino been the big boy for Feliciano? How many sacrifices had he made? How often did his big brother ask Feliciano for something?

So, Feliciano steeled his nerve.

"_Si._" forcing himself to release his brothers shirt in favor of digging his nails into his palm, he struggled not to fold in on himself, and look his brother in the eye.

But Feliciano was not a soldier...

"But why _Fratello? _Why do I have to be a big boy?" he has to know "What happened?"

Lovino leaned down and pressed his lips against the younger's cheeks and forehead, and Feliciano leaned into the affectionate gesture, drinking up the familiarity and comfort that his brother so rarely and yet so often offered him.

"Come Feli." not a demand, a request, an offer "We can talk when we get home."

* * *

"What?" no, no, no... Lovino placed his hands of Feliciano's shoulders and Feliciano had to convince himself not to slap away his brothers hands

There can't be people here... there just can't.

It's not fair!

"Feli, listen to me okay?" a numb nod. "They will _not _get you. They are not gonna get me. No one has even _lived _in that thing for _years_." but that just makes it all the worse... "So, we're gonna hole up right here for the night, I'll go to town tomorrow," No, oh dio please no... "you'll _stay here_" yeah, _right_... "and we'll just wait them out, no one ever wants to come out here into the middle of nowhere with wild animals and whatnot," but what if... "they want to see the cities. We're gonna be perfectly alright, Feliciano, just like we always are." just like always... Feeling his brothers hands tilt it face up to look at him, Feliciano searched his brothers eyes as if they held the answer, it didn't matter if he knew they wouldn't... he really wished they did...

"Okay?" no, not okay, your babying again brother...

But... Feliciano never had much of an issue with being babied. "_Fratello_!" protect me, make everything okay just like you always do, make the nightmares go away. Please, please, please. Don't let them get us!

"They won't Feli, I promise." what...? Had he said his plea out loud...? No, Lovino always said he was too easy to read.

"Look," _Fratello_... "why don't you come with me to get some firewood for the night and I'll sing you some of _nonno's _old lullabies, just like before." before... before the nightmare... brushing away Feliciano's tears with a warm, thick thumb, and tilting Feliciano's head up, Lovino's eyes flickered back and forth across Feliciano's face. "Okay?"

_Okay, fine, you win Lovi... happy Feli it is then_...'

"_Si_, okay _fratello_!" '_if it makes you happy..._'

Taking his brother's hand, Feliciano took off, painting a practiced smile onto his lips. '_I can pretend for a little while longer..._'

* * *

After... after their parents death... Lovino... didn't cry, he never cried, Feliciano started crying as soon as he processed... his little brother's death... and he didn't stop for... days...

Lovino took him to the families graves every anniversary and major holiday, Feliciano had once asked why.

"They were your family, Feli... you should be given the chance to grieve properly but we couldn't go to the funeral... This is the least I can do for you." of course, Feliciano started crying before the end of the first sentence, falling against his brother and just cry, he never asked why Lovino never cried or why he revered to the family as 'Feliciano's' he was too afraid to bring it up... it was too sad... seven years later and it was still too soon...

So, Lovino became the adult... Lovino took care of the food and clothes and protection... and Feliciano tried really, really, super hard not to break his big brothers walls, he just couldn't be the one to make his _fratello _cry...

Feliciano's favorite part about summer was cherries so, while Lovino fixed everything up for the night, the younger Italian set to work on taking off his shirt, setting it on the ground, and filling it up with as many cherries as he could before they found their way into his mouth.

"Feli!" head snapping up, Feliciano looked at his brother for a moment, he looked a little calmer than the horrified, panicked expression he wore earlier but as the sun set... Lovino started to look nervous...

Bouncing over to his brother 'happily', Feliciano held open his bounty filled T-shirt for Lovino to see "Look what I found _Fratello_!" Touching his hands to still him, Lovino took a moment to scan the red fruit before shooting a grin at the younger and taking a handful, popping one into his mouth.

"Good boy, Feli." patting the younger Italian's head, Lovino smiled fondly at him, finally relaxing.

So, Feliciano laughed, glad to have made his brother happy, and darting inside for his backpack, to share with his big brother later.

Turning to his brother to ask what he should put the red fruit in so they wouldn't get to badly squished, Feliciano watched his brother turn towards the sun and uncertainty creep into his features... uncertainty, anxiety... fear.

Feliciano lowered his gaze to his hands where his fingers had entangled themselves, and forced himself not to let the first tear slip through.

'_I'm sorry, _Fratello_, I'm so sorry that I can't be strong enough to protect you... I'm so sorry you had to be saddled with such a worthless brother..._'

But, maybe just one tear, for his brother, maybe, that couldn't be so bad...

* * *

**A/N: Howdy y'all, I am pleased to announce that chapter one of my N. Italy (Feliciano) POV story has been completed 2013 July 3rd!**

**Imma post this along with my Heroe and Salvezza story updates as well as my Germany (Ludwig) POV Heilig on 2013 July 4th**

**I hope that y'all will enjoy reading this chapter as much as I have enjoyed writing it! **

**Well, I've got one more story update to get done and I've only got till the 4th so Imma get on that for y'all!**

_**Ja ne **_**(see you)**


	2. Chapter 2

**In case you didn't know:  
Hetalia= not mine**

* * *

Feliciano found that he didn't really mind that Lovino misinterpreted the tears he shed for his brother as some kind of overwhelming fear of discovery that Feliciano just couldn't handle as they flowed down his cheeks in streams of despair and he let Lovino hold him, he clamped both hands down over his mouth to smother his wails as he leaned into his brothers strong, comforting embrace, not able to get enough air through his nose as he pressed his face against Lovino's neck, relishing in his brothers sent.

He also submerged himself in Lovino's voice as he whispered sweet promises of a sunrise and clear, cloudless blue skies, telling bits of nono's old fairy tales that he had told Lovino when he was young, singing lullabies that _nonna_ had sung to all three of them when they had begged, and stories about mama's smile and papa's eyes.

Even through his badly muffled sobs, Feliciano heard the crunching footsteps and surprised gasp that echoed through their little rock shelter and sent Lovino flying to his feet.

The hand that Lovino used to grab at Feliciano's shirt and yank him behind his big brother was rough and frightened the younger Italian as he struggled to clear his eyes and subdue his rising sobs.

The beaten black pistol that came to life in Lovino's hand scared him more.

It used to be their grandfathers, so Lovino said.

It was one of the last things they had to remind them of their family.

Lovino treasured it.

Lovino kept it fully operational, spent hours cleaning and caring for it, and fully loaded at all times.

But bullets were expensive and hard to steal.

Feliciano knew that Lovino never wasted more than two bullets on a single man.

That was on days when he was merciful enough to give one warning.

The second one would send crimson blood splattering over anyone and anything in the immediate area.

But Lovino pulled the trigger far too quickly for it to be anything but a warning, he didn't waste his ammo recklessly on a shot that might miss.

Peeking over his brother's shoulder, Feliciano looked at the man frozen in front of them.

And his heart skipped a beat.

His brother would, on occasion and after a long time of pestering, tell Feliciano about their parents, about their little brother's light green eyes and copper-red hair and adorable habits, their mothers soft brown eyes and gentle, forgiving personality, and their fathers hard hand.

Lovino also told Feliciano that the most vivid memory of their family was their little brother's wide, innocent eyes, their mothers sweet perfume that matched her smile...

And their father's brilliant green eyes, he spoke of them in such vivid detail that they would haunt Feliciano's dreams weeks after Lovino's stories.

And there, standing in the firelight, emerald-green eyes danced and glowed and Feliciano felt all the air rush from his chest in a high-pitched whimper.

'_Papa...?_'

When the second bullet blasted from the gun's muzzle and Lovino moved away from him, Feliciano cried out wordlessly, a soulful plea not to kill the light that danced in panicked green eyes.

"Out!" the single commanding word that left Lovino's lips was another warning, another chance for survival.

Lovino was never one for three strikes, you're out.

Most people didn't get one strike.

This man got three.

He still wasn't dead.

What was wrong with his brother?

* * *

Sighing, Lovino turned around to face Feliciano. "Feli, you can't come, we've been over this."

Lovino was, by nature, stubborn, and was used to having Feliciano do whatever he said. "I don't care! I'm going with you and you can't stop me!" pausing to take a steadying breath, Feliciano plowed straight through Lovino's attempt to interrupt him.

Despite their differences in appearance and personality, Feliciano was still Lovino's little brother and was just as capable of getting what he wanted despite his age. "I am not a child anymore Lovino, as much as you wish it was so!" it hurt to land such a low blow on his brother but he would not be coddled anymore. "I'm sick of waiting and not knowing if you're gonna come back to me alive..." because what was he supposed to do if, one day, his brother didn't come home? If Lovino couldn't stand to loose Feliciano then what made him think that Feliciano could survive loosing his big brother?

Feliciano hung his head, squeezing his eyes shut. '_Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry..._' he repeated the command in his head like a mantra.

When Lovino touched Feliciano's cheek and pressed their foreheads together, the younger Italian leaned into the familiar, comforting touch desperately, struggling to force the icky thoughts out of his head.

'_How am I supposed to keep you safe_ fratello_...?_'

"Alright." the word came suddenly and firmly as Lovino stood and grabbed their backpacks, little, old things that Lovino had stolen from a yard sale after their families death.

Feliciano fumbled with the pack that Lovino tossed at him, watching his brother paint a painfully fake smile onto his lips. "Come on, but..." Lovino's voice dropped and he invaded Feliciano's personal space, forcing eye contact. "You do what I say, when I say it. I tell you to run: you run, I tell you to hide: you hide." Lovino cocked an eyebrow. "Do you understand?"

Feliciano nodded, to nervous to speak.

'_Don't take him from me..._' he prayed, forcing his breaths to stay even.

'_You're just over reacting, nothing bad is going to happen..._' clenching his fists, Feliciano really hoped he was right.

And he really, really hoped that Lovino would be able to protect them.

And if he couldn't...

Feliciano wondered if he would be strong enough to protect them both.

He really hoped he wouldn't have to...

* * *

**How ya doin' y'all? Sorry this took me a bit but it was a touch hard to get through ^^;**

**I kinda miscalculated my timing and totally fucked up so now both Salvatore and Heilig are a bit behind my other HH stories so I might end up pausing Heroe and Salvazza updates till I get them caught up but it shouldn't take me too long.**

**So, till then**

_**Ja ne **_**(See you)**


	3. Chapter 3

Feliciano could _feel_ his brothers tension as they walked down the sidewalk, their packs filled with fruit and bread and cloth, Feliciano could feel the tension in everyone and everything that surrounded him, like the calm before the storm when one minute you hear the birds singing and see the butterflies fluttering around and you turn away, then, there are no birds, there are no butterflies, and you look up and there's a twister headed right towards you.

But, maybe, perhaps, Feliciano was... imagining things, this was his first time out to market in a long time, maybe... Lovino's stories of shouting and gunshots and way too many people got to the younger Italian more so than he thought... yeah, that's it...

So, Feliciano just skipped along, he bounced and hummed because Lovi said that singing would draw attention to them and he held Lovino's hand and told stupid riddles and jokes he made up on the spot and-

"Feliciano...?" Lovino's voice was tense, strained, forced but calm... for Feliciano no doubt...

Looking up at Lovino, Feliciano gazed, wide-eyed at the elder "_Si?_"

It Lovino too long to respond.

"Do you remember where you said you would do what I say..." his voice faltered. "When I say it?" Lovino's voice shook and trembled as he breathed the words.

Shit. "_Si...?_" Lovino nodded, his jaw clenched and the words he spoke came out as a strained, practiced whisper

"I need you..." a breath. "To run..." another breath. "and..." and another. "do not, under any circumstances, get caught..." another breath, deeper, longer. "I..." and again "I'll be right behind you." No...

"_Fratello...?_" No... no, no, no NO!

"God damn it, Feli-" NO! God no.

Lovino disappeared under three men in matching uniforms and another yanked Feliciano's hands behind his back, making him yelp and cry as cold metal was pressed against his wrists.

No... God, please, no...

Take his home...

Take a family he don't remember...

Take his life...

Do NOT take his big brother...

Please...

* * *

The next thing Feliciano knew, Lovino was on top of him, shoving the man and his handcuffs to the ground and putting a bullet into his shoulder. Feliciano was lifted off the ground and shoved, hard, as Lovino screamed, begging him to run.

So, Feliciano ran.

And he _h__ated _himself for it, pushing his way through the crowd and away from anyone or anything, tears streamed down his face as he stumbled his way into the dark afternoon shadows.

Leaning up against the wall, Feliciano tried to clear his head, tried to make his sobs and tears stop, tried to figure out _how the hell_ he was gonna save Lovi...

He hadto save his brother, he _had _to...

But how? Even Lovino couldn't go against all of them, how was Feliciano supposed to do anything? But, still, it's not like he could _go _to anybody and just say '_Hey, my brother is being arrested for stealing, resisting arrest, shooting an officer, and possibly killing people and I was wondering if you could help me because he's the only family I have left..._' Yeah... No.

Sinking down the wall, Feliciano put his elbows against his knees, buried his face in his hands, and sobbed.

What the _hell _was he supposed to do without Lovino? He had to do _something_...

But, really... he couldn't... could he?

Lovino had told him as much, hadn't he "_People are fleeting, they are quick to betray, quick to exploit, and quick to abandon, quick to leave, there are no exceptions, Feliciano, make no mistake..._" Lovino had included himself in that, hadn't he, he had prepared Feliciano for moments like this.

But, without Lovino...

How would Feliciano eat?

How would he survive the winter?

How would he survive at all?

Who would hold him through the storms?

Who would hold him... through... the... nightmares...

Wait.

If, that, man, with papa's eyes, the one that Lovino didn't kill, didn't shoot, what if...

Was that even an option to Feliciano?

Did he even have a choice?

No, not really.

* * *

This, this right here? This was easier said than done.

Feliciano didn't know how he managed to find this silly, old cabin through his sobs and tears, what he did know was there were lots of people in there, Feliciano could hear them.

Was that man even here? If he wasn't, what would Feliciano do then? Did he have a choice now?

No, no he didn't.

It was funny, really, these rational thoughts and questions that swarmed his brain but, outside, in real life, his body was stumbling, sobbing, he couldn't see, didn't know if he could speak, he hadn't really tried.

So, it was funny how questions like: 'If he isn't here, or won't help me, what are my options?' and 'Is this really a good idea?' ran, fast, blurred through his brain while his body stumbled its way up to the door and started pounding frantically against the oak.

The house went quiet,

His brain held its breath,

His body sobbed.

The door opened,

His mind turned white,

And Feliciano screamed.

* * *

This man, this man right here? Not who Feliciano was looking for.

The oak door swung open and standing there, leaning up against the doorway, was a tall man, long, wavy blond hair, blue eyes, slight stubble and, to Feliciano who had been told not to trust people with more than enough experience to back it up, this man was far from someone Feliciano wanted to associate with.

So, when the door opened, Feliciano was proud of himself when he only stumbled back a few steps and just stood there, scared and unsure as he tried to figure out what to do now.

"M_on dieu..._" Feliciano really wished he spoke... what ever language that was... great, now what was he gonna do... "Gilbert!" Gilbert? What in God's name in a 'Gilbert'? Oh shit, what if-

"What's takin' you so long Francis? What-" '_no, no no no no, okay, it-it's okay, just... calm_ down.' German, this man was a German, Feliciano could tell that much. He had a tall build, and, he was strong, not over muscled but strong. The stark white hair caught his attention next.

The blood-red eyes did him in.

If Feliciano screamed seeing this 'Francis' then he didn't know how to define the sound he made seeing this 'Gilbert'. What Feliciano did know was that, when he stumbled back a second time, he tripped over himself and fell, but, the two figures at the door didn't move.

Unsure what to do, Feliciano just sat there, bracing his weight on one hand while the other covered his face, maybe, just maybe, if they didn't get a good look at his face, and he held still, they'd leave him alone...

The third man to come into the group was the biggest man Feliciano had ever seen, his blond hair was slicked back and he had hard blue eyes and was the most terrifying thing Feliciano had ever seen.

The man in front of him tilted his head slightly, blue eyes softening slightly as he lowered himself down. "English?" What? Wait, wait... what? ...Oh!

"___S_-_s_-_si_... yes, yes I-I do." This man spoke English? Oh, thank god, maybe... maybe "_Per_- please! My _fratello_, my _frate_- brother he, he, I can't!" would this man help him? Could he?

The man's eyebrows drew together, confused. "I don't understand, you're not making any sense." '_No... no you... you have to help me..._' suddenly very scared and unaware of his surroundings, Feliciano bolted up, towards the man, his weight shifting back almost subconsciously away, reaching towards him as if he could make the other understand through the desperate gesture.

"My brother!" Why did he not understand? Why would he not help him? What did he mean 'didn't make sense'?

Reaching a large, pale hand towards him, the strange man spoke softly, making Feliciano flinch "We'll help you and your brother, come here." '_TRAP! Trap, trap, trap, trap! Lovino!_'

"No!" '_Trap, trap, trap. RUN AWAY!_' Stumbling his way to his feet, Feliciano stepped back and waited, wondering what this man would do... wondering what _Feliciano _would do...

"It's okay." the stranger stood up, slowly, his hand still open and empty, held out for Feliciano to see. "It's okay to be afraid," he stepped forward and Feliciano wondered if... he could really trust him, "It's okay to be unsure," if... he could make the right decision. "It's a good thing, actually." arms length away from him, Feliciano knew he didn't have a choice, and, really...

Feliciano found that...

He didn't mind.


	4. Chapter 4

**In case you didn't know:  
Hetalia=I don't own**

* * *

"But I want to help you." stay or go? "And I can't if you don't trust me." trust or call bull? Feliciano sobbed again, to go against everything his brother had ever taught him or to believe a stranger in the hope that it won't all go south?

Falling against this German's chest, Feliciano found he didn't mind that he didn't have a choice, Lovino was a strong big brother but this man was a rock, a wall, a tank, stronger and surer and, dare he say it? Safe-

No, no he didn't dare...

"Please!" Save Lovino, do not betray him, do not make this a mistake, Feliciano didn't know what he was begging for anymore.

And he really didn't care.

Relief made his knees give out, in his defense, he tried to straighten, tried to catch himself, the blond was faster, stronger, lifting Feliciano up and turning to the other two men that Feliciano had completely forgotten about, suggesting they go inside.

Inside... Feliciano hadn't been inside a house in... since...

Was it a bad thing that he didn't remember?

"Please don't hurt me." It was a weak beg, even to Feliciano's ears, he didn't even know why he made the watery request, it was a plea, nothing more, nothing less, it could not truly protect him.

"Never." But his response was so strong and so sure, it left no room for argument or denial, and whatever comfort the single, grunted word lacked was easily made up for in the German's soft, strong touch.

Touch, now that was something that Feliciano had not truly known for a very long time, if ever.

All of his memories of touch were of Lovi, as was any other memory...

Touch: a gentle hand pressed against his forehead for a fraction of a second, the coolness quickly replaced by hot, rapid-fire curses in the Italian's native tongue. A weeks worth of hot, restless, feverish nights and long, guilty, helpless glances from his brother who could not bring him the comfort and aid he so desperately craved.

Touch: a firm hand pressed against the back of his head, a warm, solid body, a soft, gentle voice, all forgotten the next morning, replaced by sharp commands to _get up _and _let go of me! _until he could gather the courage to wake his brother after another nightmare.

And then there was the more... resent memories, the first made _without _Lovino.

Touch: rough hands grabbing and jerking, too hot and overwhelming and terrifying as they suffocated him, too close and too fresh and... and...

And Feliciano didn't want to think about it anymore.

But, that had been his brothers touch, few and far between and fleeting, quickly repressed and forgotten, this was...

Warm and soft and strong, it was jumpy hands that did not know where to place themselves but when they did they did not stray, it was being pressed up against a warm chest that housed a heart that fluttered too fast and too loud before slowly steadying itself into a constant, comforting pound, it was a gentle, natural, soothing sent that wreathed itself around Feliciano and cocooned him like a baby in a blanket.

Warm and soothing and comforting and Feliciano wanted to sleep, but the German carrying him crossed the threshold and the scary, white-haired one pulled a chair out for him to be sat down on and Feliciano knew he could not sleep.

Not in a strange house with many scary, strange people and his brother's fate still unknown.

Not with baby blue eyes that suddenly hardened as he looked up to lock with Feliciano's and reached out to cradle his shaking hands.

Not with this sudden, fresh, new fear that washed over him and shut down his brain until the only thing that Feliciano could think of anymore was what Lovino had always told him:

_Trap._

* * *

Feliciano had not been aware that his hands were shaking until the German reached out and grabbed them, cradling them his own, large, calloused ones.

Blue eyes tried to lock with his own brown ones and he could not bring himself to do it. He felt hot and scared and cornered, in a place he did not know surrounded by people he did not know staring at him, he could feel it.

The finger that slipped its way underneath Feliciano's chin made him freeze, eyes wide and body stiff.

But his body did not resist the slight pressure that turned and tilted his head until he was looking into the German's baby blues and everything disappeared. The house, the room, the people, all of it, gone.

The terror increased ten-fold.

"Now," the word came out in a soft, almost sweet, breath, but Feliciano felt a natural tremor build up in a flinch, instinctive, as though violently struck, but his body could not seem to bring itself to move.

The hand that came up to cup his cheek felt so hot and rough and no, no, _no more, please no more. _"Tell me what's got you so frightened." This time, when Feliciano felt the spasm of pure terror, if he could even call it that anymore, he saw, more than felt, his body move.

His desire to remove himself from the people and place and _situation_ forced his voice to let loose an almost inhuman noise that Feliciano barely processed, but _he _continued.

"I want to help you..." no. No, no, no, NO! And for a moment, for a fraction of a second, Feliciano wondered how he could be so useless, he came here to help his brother, accepted this mans help to get it, and now, what? He was chickening out in the worst way possible...

"Yes..." was he that easy to read? Could this man pick up the firm denial that he had chanted like a mantra in the hope that this was another nightmare? "I do, but I can't if I don't know the problem..." why was this so hard? But the hand that still rested against the side of his face moved and a thick thumb moved back and forth across his skin and he continued. "What is it that you are looking for..." _please, please, no more... _"Let me help you."

Unable to hold onto his last shred of strength, Feliciano felt his body curl in on itself, arms that were too thin and too short wrapping around his middle in a failed attempt to imitate the comfort that his brother so often brought him. Why wasn't it _working_?

Hot, thick tears rolled down his cheeks, quickly brushed aside by thumbs that were too thick and too rough and too hot to be Lovino's but too comforting and soft to bring himself to reject the touch.

"He..." Could he even remember anymore? Could he gather enough memories of the man who lived that night to give this man, this German, the information he needed to help Lovino?

Feliciano doubted it.

"He lives here," Or, at lest, Feliciano assumed he did. Lovino had looked so shocked after seeing whatever he'd seen in this house, the same look he harbored that night. "He came in the night and my brother didn't shoot him... he has to help me... he has to help us!" His throat feet raw from the sobbing and screaming, he could feel his voice rise hysterically and he couldn't tell if he was still speaking English.

But the German asked another question: "I need more than that..." Not really a question but a statement in need of an answer, but Feliciano had nothing left to give him, he could not remember the height or hair color or eye color or any other information at all, just that a man who lived here came in the night and his brother couldn't bring himself to shoot him.

"Who is 'he'? what does he look like?" But Feliciano couldn't _remember_!

New footsteps, another breathing body, another heartbeat and the room came back into focus because '_There were more_?'

Feliciano's head came up eyes scurrying up a long, lean torso to lock with-

Deep, wide, emerald-green eyes.

The world tilted and warped and Feliciano felt sick, his body stumbling forward without his consent or realization, hands reaching out and clinging to thin cloth that covered a firm chest and when that softly accented Spanish voice stammered out the first four letters of his name...

The world _clicked _because _this _was the man from that night, _this _was the man who would help him save Lovino, _this _was the man who Feliciano had been so frantically searching for.

Was it supposed to be this easy?

Feliciano was getting _really _used to not caring.

"You have to help me! You have to help him!" And Feliciano grabbed at his hands and _pulled _putting all of his weight into the action because he couldn't bring himself to speak in normal sentences because Feliciano finally found _him_ and Lovino was still an unknown.

"Take me to him! Now!" And whether the Spaniard pulled him or Feliciano pulled the Spaniard, he didn't know, but what he _did _know was that he had _finally _found the man to help him and he and God would help them.

Or, at the very least, help Lovi.

Because if Lovino was allowed to work himself dead to take care of Feliciano, then this was the _least _Feliciano could do.

God as his witness, Feliciano _would save his brother_.

And God strike him dead if he wouldn't.

* * *

**It is so hot here... I came to Redding to visit my father and I am dying... **

**I really don't have anything to say.**

_**Ja ne **_**(see you)**


	5. Chapter 5

**In case you didn't know:  
Hetalia=not mine**

* * *

Stumbling his way through the early afternoon crowd of the unfamiliar market was nothing short of terrifying for the little Italian.

Feliciano had only ever visited the market a handful of times. Always with Lovino.

But, never without his brother, never with so many people, and _never_ accompanying strangers.

It couldn't really be helped though, could it?

Being fairly short and thin for his age and gender (Lovino told him once that, as a child, Feliciano had been mistaken many a time for a girl) Feliciano darted between legs and under arms, releasing the Spaniards arm to find his own way through the wall of onlookers.

Feliciano didn't care, not about the people blocking his way, not the people struggling their way through the crowd after him.

'_Lovi, Lovi, Lovi, Lovi-_

_No..._'

Feliciano's brother was well-known for his snarky, short, cold, _insufferable_ attitude, masking emotions always dancing in deep, soulful eyes that cut through you like a hot knife through butter.

On... bad days, Lovino's eyes were... dull, still filled with emotions, forced and hidden alike, but flatter.

Feliciano had never, ever seen his indestructible big brother's eyes look so blank and dark and... _dead._

Lovino told him once before that the reason Feliciano didn't remember the night that killed their family was partly because he was too young.

And partly because it had been too traumatizing for his young, undeveloped brain and heart and body to handle.

Seeing Lovino, seeing his big brother look _at _him but not _see _him.

Looking into blank, dead, soulless eyes...

Brought back every memory and sensation he had ever forgotten and the _sound _that was _ripped _out of his chest was _ungodly, _raw and hoarse and high-pitched because _oh my God that's _Lovino!

But miracle upon miracles, his brother responded, blind and lost and broken as it was.

And Feliciano's heart stopped and broke because it was Lovino's head lifting up, it was red, bloody lips parting wide to show off yellow teeth and a raw, red throat, it was the slight shuffle of his feet and twitch of his fingers as Lovino tried to make his body _move_.

The undeniable pull against his heart brought Feliciano stumbling forward towards the broken mound that was his brother.

The hand that suddenly wrapped around his arm, just above his elbow, had other plans.

So, so close. Lovino was only a few yards away from him. So why? Why did God restrain him?

Feliciano turned, more from instinct than actual, consented desire, scared and frustrated and Feliciano wanted to _cry_ because it just wasn't _fair_!

But Feliciano could only stare as his eyes locked with eyes like green fire (Lovino told him that sometimes the orange, yellow flames would change colors like blue and purple and green) for only a moment, less than a heartbeat and the Spaniard's gaze moved, locked on something behind Feliciano and the Italian could only bury his face in his hands and _sob._

It was so... frustrating, not being able to help Lovino by himself, being forced to stand back as others helped him. Why was he so use-

And warm arms wrapped around his body, and Feliciano jumped, the beginnings of a squeal setting itself on his lips, taking a deep breath in through his nose because if he screamed, Lovino would come, he had to come, he always came.

But... this was as familiar as it was foreign, warm and safe and sure, strong and soft and... just...

No, he could _not _accept comfort like this! Not with his _brother _sitting cold and broken and cornered as he was.

And so Feliciano prayed "Please, please, please God no, do not take my brother, bestow unto me his sins, throw me into the fires of hell, let me take my brother's place, do not condemn him to a fate of which he does not deserve..." it was an old prayer, one Feliciano heard often, screamed to the heavens by preachers in the church he liked to sit outside of while Lovino was out, it was a simple prayer, strange, old, but simple, words that Feliciano could understand or at least take guess at.

"No." And for a moment he thought the word was spoken from the God above he prayed to, a rejection to save his brother, but the arms encircling his body tightened before releasing him all together, pushing him back and away, hands grabbing at his wrists and squeezing and shaking. "Your brother is going to be fine, you are going to be fine, neither of you will _ever_ go to hell. Ever. I promise." and large, calloused hands trailed up, fingertips brushing against the material of his torn, filthy shirt, and over the skin against his neck, and warm, dry palms cradled his cheeks and thumbs brushed back and forth across his skin to whisk away and dry at the warm salt water still streaming down his face.

"Oh, God!" Feliciano cried out, flinging himself at the German's torso and almost shattered when a soft, warm breath puffed against his skin and strong, shy arms came to tenderly wrap around the small of his back because it had been so _long, _but this felt familiar, forgotten.

Pressing his face into the German's neck, Feliciano tried to lose himself in warm skin and sweet breath and strong arms.

Feliciano sensed more than felt the presence of his brother behind him but he couldn't bring himself to pick his head up, to look at his brother, he was afraid.

And then the hands, flat against the small of his back faltered and Feliciano clung because he knew that if he was released, he would lose the last anchor that tethered him to this Earth, he would lose his last shred of sanity because he couldn't _take this anymore!_

And Feliciano felt the change, felt the hands place themselves against the cloth that covered his back again and shift, gliding their way down to brace against the backs of his thighs and when the German lifted, Feliciano jumped, wrapping weak arms around the larger mans neck and coiling frail legs around a wide, sturdy waist and hiding himself in the collar of the German's shirt, not caring how much of a child he seemed because it didn't matter if he saved Lovino, it didn't matter that they were both, for now, safe.

He was, and always would be, the stupid, worthless little brother who couldn't do anything right.

* * *

Feliciano allowed himself to doze as the German carried him, just letting his mind go blank, he didn't think about Lovino or the man carrying him or the people around him or where he was, he was only aware that he was warm and that his eyes were closed.

"I'm going to put you down..." Until the chest he was pressed up against rumbled and the throat his nose was pressed against buzzed and the words were whispered into his hair.

And Feliciano clung because he didn't want to know if his body would hold him, he didn't want to be forced to hold himself together and protect himself and his brother and as much as he told Lovino that he was a big boy now, he didn't _want _to be and maybe if he stopped breathing he would disappear.

"Feli..." Wait, what? When did he...

Lips pressed against the shell of his ear and Feliciano stopped thinking because he _couldn't. _

"I will not leave you all alone, I will not make you hold yourself up. Your brother cannot stay out here, he needs to sleep, and I cannot open the door if you are clinging to me like this." Feliciano couldn't move, he couldn't _breathe _but his chest still expanded and he filled his lungs but was too shocked and uncertain and _scared _to do anything else because he _can't do this!_

"My brother once told me 'In the face of danger, there are only two people, those who are weak and those who are strong. Strength, however does not lie in ones abilities...'" The German pulled back and Feliciano lost himself in light blue eyes and soft words. "'Strength lies in your ability to be strong when those stronger than you are, and those you love, are weak.' You must be strong Feli, your brother is weak, he needs you as you have needed him."

It took Feliciano a moment to figure out exactly what the German was asking of him, what he was saying, and when he did, and Feliciano understood, he steeled himself because Lovino needed him and he could not be a child forever.

So, Feliciano unlocked his ankles from behind the German's waist and when his feet hit the ground, Feliciano was tempted to release the German all together because he wanted to be strong like the Spaniard and the German and his big brother but he was not stupid, he knew his legs wouldn't hold his weight, so, keeping a hold on thick, sturdy shoulders, Feliciano allowed the door to be unlocked and swung open and reality and realization struck and Feliciano lost his nerve, holding onto the German with new vigor.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I can't. I can't do it. I can't he strong like my big brother and you and I never will be!" The apology was whispered, breathed, frantic, and Feliciano fully expected to be whacked upside the head because that was how Lovino... comforted him.

But the next words mumbled were not aimed at him. "Perhaps we should wait for Gilbert and Francis inside, get him down on a bed." Feliciano stayed silent. "Antonio..." The footsteps stilled and Feliciano wondered what or who 'Antonio' was, trying to decide if that was the Spaniards name or a word in another language meaning 'wait' or 'stop' or something. "We'll make this work, everything will work out, I'm sure." And Feliciano couldn't hold back his whimper but the German only tightened his hold around him.

Feliciano wondered if he was right, if this _would _all work out.

He really, _really _hoped it would.

Because God could not be that cruel.

He simply couldn't.

* * *

**I'm sorry, I really have nothing interesting to say.**


End file.
